Flood: I, the Nine Turns of the Golden Pillar, all want to eat me!
Chapter 11 - The Eighth Gourd, Transplanted Gourd

Chapter 11: The Eighth Gourd, Transplanted Gourd

“Mistress? I have got another title, how interesting.” Nuwa smiles as if she finds it amusing.

Xuan Qing is momentarily dumbfounded, realizing he had spoken too soon. Nuwa had only received the title of Niang Niang after creating humans.

A surge of panic rises in Xuan Qing, and he quickly moves to Laozi’s side.

Laozi strokes his beard and smiles. “Fellow Daoist Nuwa, many thanks for your qi of creation.”

“No harm done. I cultivate the Great Dao of Creation; gifting Xuan Qing a little is nothing.” Nuwa speaks indifferently.

Xuan Qing understands all too well what the Great Dao of Creation entails. The creation condensed by Nuwa’s cultivation carries immense benefits for him, given that he is an incarnation of a dan. The essence of creation now condenses within him, enhancing his cultivation significantly. The divine dan that had been refining within his body has evolved into nine revolutions.

With this evolution, Xuan Qing has reached the threshold of a half-step Golden Immortal. Now, he only needs to comprehend the Great Dao and integrate it within his Nine Revolutions Golden Dan to fully ascend into the realm of the Golden Immortal.

Realizing the transformation within himself, Xuan Qing suddenly understands why Laozi had said he had a chance.

With deep gratitude, he gazes at Nuwa.

—

In the blink of an eye, a hundred years had passed.

The Innate Gourd Vine had finally matured, attracting the attention of several Flood Gods. However, with only seven gourds, there were not enough to be distributed among them.

A few Taoists exchange glances, silently contemplating how to divide them.

“Today, the gourd vine is ripe, and we all seek to obtain a gourd. But with only seven, there is not enough for all. A real headache.” A Daoist in a red robe, with a carefree demeanor, speaks. He is none other than the renowned Red Cloud of the Flood.

The issue is clear to everyone. No one is willing to give up their chance.

Laozi strokes his beard and speaks with calm detachment. “Treasures belong to those destined to receive them. We should not decide for ourselves. Let the gourd vine choose, and we shall observe fate unfold.”

Hearing this, the Taoists can only agree. They cannot afford to fight over a gourd—not when they are all cultivators who value dignity.

The gourd vine, as if possessing its spirit, trembles gently. The largest purple-gold gourd detaches and flies out.

It lands in Laozi’s hands. He chuckles. “It seems this poor Taoist is the one destined.”

The remaining cultivators remain silent, each acknowledging fate in their way.

The second gourd, a deep purple-red, follows, flying into Red Cloud’s embrace. He laughs heartily. “Haha! It seems this poor Taoist is also one of destiny!”

One by one, the remaining gourds follow, finding their destined owners. Taiyi obtains one, which he will later refine into the Immortal Beheading Gourd. Nuwa acquires one, which she will transform into the Demon Recruiter. The First Heavenly Father and Tongtian also receive theirs.

With all seven gourds distributed, only the empty gourd vine remains. The cultivators exchange glances, realizing there is no further opportunity. One by one, they begin to depart. The gourd vine, though an innate spiritual root, is different from others. The gourds it produces cannot be consumed; they can only be refined into treasures. Moreover, while the first batch of gourds is invaluable, later batches hold significantly less worth. There is no telling how long it will take for the vine to bear another batch—if it ever does.

For this reason, none of the remaining cultivators pay it any heed, and they gradually take their leave.

Taiyi departs. Red Cloud follows. Nuwa hesitates for a moment as if something has occurred to her, but she ultimately says nothing and also leaves. Before departing, however, she does not forget to tease Xuan Qing. “Little Xuan Qing, cultivate well.”

Xuan Qing’s expression darkens. He cannot shake the feeling that Nuwa is up to no good. What is the point of urging me to cultivate? Does she intend to eat me? By now, Xuan Qing understands that his existence is far more enticing than mere donkey meat. After all, as a transformed elixir, even a single drop of his blood contains immense medicinal potency.

—

After a short while, all the other Taoists have left. Laozi prepares to take Xuan Qing away, but Xuan Qing lingers, staring at the gourd vine. “Master… the gourd vine still has an eighth gourd forming.”

Xuan Qing steps closer. Now that the seven gourds are gone, the vine appears withered and frail. However, at its edge, a small, thumb-sized gourd remains. Its tender green skin glows faintly.

He had noticed this small gourd before and now wonders why none of the other cultivators had paid it any attention.

Laozi strokes his beard, smiling kindly as he explains, “Apprentice… Within the Flood, all innate spiritual roots produce a fixed number of fruits. The Innate Gourd Vine is no exception. At most, it should have borne nine gourds. However, it seems to have suffered some damage, as if its origin was lost. Because of this, it could only produce seven. This last small gourd has formed, but it lacks the necessary origin to mature.”

“A pity,” Tongtian sighs. “It seems the gourd vine lost too much of its origin. The seven gourds it bore were likely its swansong. It will be difficult for it to bear more. Unless some great opportunity arises to restore its origin, it may never recover.”

Xuan Qing nods, now understanding why none of the cultivators had given the vine or the eighth gourd a second glance. So that is why… The gourd vine is already beyond saving and holds no further value. He does not know what calamity caused this loss, but he understands all too well the significance of one’s origin. Within the Flood, whether it be cultivators, spiritual treasures, or spiritual roots, all possess an origin. To lose it is to suffer great harm—perhaps even to meet one’s end.

After a moment’s contemplation, Xuan Qing turns to Laozi. “Master… I want to take this gourd vine back to Kunlun and plant it there. Perhaps the unique blessings of Kunlun’s land will help restore it.”

Laozi regards his disciple thoughtfully but does not object. The First Heavenly Father, too, remains silent, merely observing with a neutral expression, as if seeing the kindness of youth at play.

Tongtian, however, seems intrigued. “Transplanting the gourd vine? Now that is interesting…”

Seeing Tongtian’s approval, Laozi gives a small nod.

Without further delay, Tongtian casts a spell, carefully extracting the gourd vine with its roots intact. With a wave of his sleeve, he takes it away, flying toward Kunlun.

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